Story #16 Letting go

if there's one thing that I can't stand,
it's letting go of either hand,
your grip, your pulse, your unread palm,
holds me tight and keeps me calm,

when we danced inside a nightclub's haze,
and the lights dim down real slow,
I dreaded the day the last song played,
since it required letting go,

so I carried you from the dance floor,
out to an old red GTO,
although I loved opening your door,
it required letting go,


when we got home I helped your high heels,
out of the passenger seat real slow,
you almost did a cartwheel,
but that required letting go,


if there's one thing that I can't stand,
it's letting go of either hand,
your grip, your pulse, your unread palm,
holds me tight and keeps me calm,